"In a transparent myriad of men
I stand, transfixed
I am lost, searching
"Am I the Crestfallen?" I ask..."Homage "My whispering poems My treasures My arch images My treasures They honour me Dead, creaking trees They praise me Mute, mossy rocks They worship me Empty shells Why exalt a man murdered by his own muse To prevent him from turning in his grave?..."What Crawls Underneath "As this path was never meant to be trodden by man These flowers have been nurtured for none's eyes..."|
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